I didn’t even think of veils until I saw one at the store recently. I was entranced by the lovely array of white, ecru and shell-colored veils with rhinestones, delicate lace stitching, and ribbon trims. I flipped over one of the tags on a seemingly plain option and nearly had a heart-attack.
Is THAT what veils cost?
I carefully removed my hands from the whole thing and slowly took a step back. One fingernail snag and the whole “you broke it, you buy it” thing would have come into effect. I walked away, grumbling to myself about paying over $100 for a swath of white netting.
I left the store feeling a little deflated because let’s face it, a long flowing veil is a nice accessory to complete the “blushing bride” look. At this point, I want to be the blushing bride. This is a one-time party, as I’ll never consider spending this much on a party again. I’ve developed a vision on this quest and the vision includes me being swung around the dance floor like a Disney princess, long gown and veil romantically swirling around us. My photographer would catch the moment and it’d become the face of our thank you and possibly Christmas cards.
What’s the point of a veil exactly? I’m not a virgin and frankly there are no blushes to be concealed. Do pretty, romantic blushes still apply to 33-year old women? At what point does one call it rosacea?
Don’t judge, but the idea of buying mosquito netting and DIYing it has crossed my mind. Or I can take my friend’s idea and dress up every Halloween as a “bride” and prance around town in my finest!
Eh, why not?:)